


Jingle Bells, High School Sucks

by Madblippo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Art Teacher Marco, Cats, Chemistry Teacher Jean, High School Teacher AU, M/M, Wine mom!Marco, holiday party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madblippo/pseuds/Madblippo
Summary: Marco is just trying to get through the week until Holiday Break but a long suffering high school art teacher never does get a break does he?





	Jingle Bells, High School Sucks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pugsnotmen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugsnotmen/gifts).



> Hey there! I'm your secret santa! I hope you like the fic a whole lot! and even if it's not a whole lot, that is okay too! I hope your holidays are as fantastic as you are!

  Trost High School could only be described as chaotic. It was made of sprawling, rambling buildings, some that were two stories and some that were just trailers. Marco had decided he no longer hated his parents for sending him to a smaller private school right after he had been hired and had gotten lost on his first day. Years later, and he still didn't know what much of the school looked like, preferring to just stay in the little building that held his art room. The building was shaped much like a figure eight, shoved towards the back edge of campus, with the art room tucked into the back corner which Marco appreciated when he could pull his car around to leave early. There was a little kiln on the outside of the building that he was allowed to use which was nice and convenient for his clay section of the year.

   Marco did not begin to understand high school students. Sometimes he wished that he had stayed at the elementary school he had first been hired at once he was done school. At least the kids had seemed genuinely excited about art, always running up to show him their new finger painting or little sculpture. He still had kids that were incredibly into art and he worked very hard to get his students engaged, it just took a little more effort with high schoolers. The thing was, high schoolers understood directions just a little better than elementary schoolers and watching them grow and sometimes come back after they were done was enough for Marco. He was just really a soft man with an even softer heart.

   The week before the holiday break was always long and excruciating, but Marco could feel it dragging even more this year than before. Checking his mailbox in the school office on Monday morning brought forth an invitation for the Springers annual holiday party. Sasha and Connie were two other teachers at Trost High and two of Marco’s close friends. Sasha, a lovely English teacher and Connie, a well meaning Math teacher had both gone to college with Marco. He had nothing against their holiday parties, they were usually very fun, Sasha just always tried to set him up with someone and this year, Marco just wasn’t ready to make awkward small talk.

   Gathering up the rest of the flyers in his mailbox, he walked to his classroom, chuckling when he saw it was already unlocked. Every year, several of his students would prefer to wait before classes in his room than anywhere else and now it was not unusual to see his door open before he got there and students either sleeping, chatting or frantically doing homework around the classroom. He dropped the invitation on his desk at the front of the room and shrugged his bag and coat off with it. His art room was a chaotic mess but organized haphazardly. Tables were arranged around the room with counters filled with shelves and various art projects lining the walls. His desk was pushed to the side with a table covered in art supplies up at the front of the room with the white board behind it. His students that tended to always congregate in his room regardless of what other classes they were supposed to be in sat at the front table. Two students sat there today, one scrolling through their phone, and the other frantically scribbling down what looked like complicated formulas.

“Mr. Kirschtein class again Lydia?” He asked, scooting behind them to right his various instructions for his classes on the whiteboard. She groaned miserably, still trying to finish her homework before the bell rang, “Yeah, I know I shouldn’t have procrastinated this, but he’s usually super lenient and nice but now everything is due and I would regret signing up for AP Chemistry if he wasn't a better teacher.” Marco chuckled, still writing looping letters explaining the student's projects for the day, “I hope he takes mercy on you today then!”

Jean Kirschtein was the chemistry teacher who taught at the front of the building Marco was in. He was loud and brash and extraordinarily passionate about his subject, making students love it just because they caught on to his exuberant enthusiasm. Jean had been the first teacher to come talk to him after he had been hired here, bringing a beaker from his classroom full of flowers he had found as a present and Marco had become hopelessly infatuated with the man ever since. Three years later, and they were close friends. He would usually wander into Marco’s room during their planning period and spends the whole time talking excitedly about something he was teaching or some new thing he had heard about while Marco smiled and nodded even though he usually never knew what Jean was ever talking about. Marco had known from the beginning that it was pointless and stupid to have a crush on someone who was most likely straight, but his soft, squishy heart did not seem to care and still beat in random patterns everytime the blonde man smiled at him.

A bell rang from over head, and Lydia shrieked. “Mr. Bodt, please please let me stay here for just a little longer so I can just finish this sheet!” She looked at him pleadingly as most of the students in the classroom started to file out and his actual students started to trickle in one by one. Marco sighed, knowing he’d probably get a text from Jean when one of his students walked in again with a late pass Marco had signed. “Fine but this is the last time I swear,” he said going to his desk to start attendance and a late pass. Lydia kept thanking him over and over behind him and he smiled. Mondays were usually long like this.

\---

Tuesday had started off not going great and had only gotten worse. Marco’s car had broken down on the way to school, making him late for work, one of his students had thrown up and he had spilled his coffee all over his desk. It wasn’t even third period and Marco had had just about enough of today. So when Jean walked in right after he had a bottle blue paint explode onto him and the surrounding area, Marco almost cried.

“Hey, hey what’s up? Are you okay?” Jean looked alarmed, and had his hand hovering in front of him obviously unsure how to help.

“I am just having a very rough day,” Marco sniffed, determined not to cry in front of the other teacher. Jean seemed to soften around the edges, “I understand, we’ve all been there but you know our track record for getting through bad days is one hundred percent so far!” Marco smiled a little at that. “Let me help you clean up,” the blonde man said, moving to grab bunches of paper towels and start swiping at the paint on the floor.

“It’s really okay!” Marco felt bad, having Jean clean up the mess he had made and moved over to stop him just as the other man stood up. Marco blinked, trying to understand their close proximity that had happened all of a sudden. Jean looked just as startled, his face and ears turning crimson as he tried to speak, mouth opening and closing as the blush spread down his neck.

He seemed to focus on Marco’s cheek for a second and raised his hand to wipe some blue streaks off of his face. “ You’ve got blue freckles now too,” Jean chuckled, stepping back and looking quite like a tomato. Marco was sure he was no better, his tan skin not enough to stop the dangerous blush on his face as he stood there gaping like a fish. Jean rubbed the back of his neck, still chuckling awkwardly, “Well I need to go grade some papers, but if you need anything, coffee, a hug, anything, let me know,” Marco watched as Jean scurried out of the room, still blushing a beautiful cherry red and muttering to himself.

“T-Thanks!” He yelled belatedly down the hallway and heard a muffled response in return. Marco turned and surveyed the smears on the floor Jean had made while trying to help and the rest of the mess as well. Tuesdays were sure something else.

\---

Marco walked in to the break room to reheat his coffee on Wednesday, lamenting the fact the microwave in his room had broken again.

“Marco! Just the person I was looking for!” Sasha exclaimed as he walked in. He noticed the container of cookies she had brought this morning had already been broken into. “Hey Sasha, what’s up?” He popped his cup into the microwave, hitting buttons and hoping it heated his coffee to something resembling warm. He probably could have just asked Jean to heat it up but that would require interrupting his class, and spending time talking to him and looking at him, and trying to not kiss him. The microwave beeped.

“Well I know I mentioned that Connie and I are having a little holiday get together after school lets out on Friday with some of the other teachers and our friends and we handed out some invitations and there’s someoneIthinkthatyouwouldgetalongwithwell,” she said in a rush as if she were worried he would leave before she could finish. Marco groaned, partially because his coffee was still cold and Sasha’s well meaning but ultimately disappointing attempts at setting him up with people were wearing on him.

“Just hear me out!” Marco sighed, “Sasha, listen I know you have the best intentions but I’m really not-” “I know, I know,” She seemed exasperated, “But I promise it won’t be terrible this time!” He put his coffee back in the microwave, watching it rotate and feeling his resolve dissolve, “You know what, I’ll go and I’ll wear an ugly sweater and talk to whoever you’d like me to, as long as you promise me the chocolate chip cookie recipe.”

The microwave beeped and the young English teacher beamed. “Oh, I’m so glad!” She bounced up and down, her ponytail swaying back and forth, “I’ll text you the details, Connie is going to be so excited! I have to go, but I’ll be in touch!” She bounced out of the break room and back down the hallway. Marco sighed again, sipping his coffee, and wishing he could put something stronger in it.

\---

Thursday had been an early release which had been no small miracle in Marco’s world which meant Friday arrived sooner than anticipated. Friday morning was spent in Walmart picking up cat food for his two little cats, one ugly sweater as promised to Sasha and a bottle of wine so he wouldn’t show up empty handed. The sky outside looked grey and filled with the promise of snow which Marco could relate to. The rest of Friday before the party and Marco’s inevitable doom, was spent doing chores around his apartment he hadn’t gotten around to earlier in the week and spending quality time with his precious angels, Taz and Murphy. He had adopted the two cats when he had moved back from college and loved them like they were his own children. When seven o’clock rolled around, he groaned and decided that it was now or never for the party. The drive to Sasha and Connie’s house wasn’t too far and Eartha Kitt sang to Marco that she deserved quite a lot.“Yeah me too,” he muttered, pulling up to the house and turning off the car.

He spent a couple minutes trying to breathe deeply and think of an excuse to leave early before raising his fist to the door. Before he could even knock on the door though, it swung open to reveal Sasha and Connie wearing matching sweaters and grins. “He arrives!” Connie yelled over his shoulder, sending a chorus of cheers from somewhere else in the house. Connie and Sasha had moved into the suburbs around the school after they had gotten married and had bought a lovely home that was obviously waiting for the children they would inevitably have. Tonight though, the house was filled with semi-intoxicated teachers and friends Marco had know since college. Marco was ushered into the kitchen with his bottle of wine and was greeted by Sasha and some of the other English teachers from the high school. “Marco! You know Krista and Armin right?” She gestured wildly at the two other people in the room, obviously already a few cups in. Marco smiled and waved at the two. He knew Krista and her girlfriend frequently went to the same queer poetry reading he went to with Jean once a month at a local coffee shop. “Yeah I do, hey guys happy holidays and everything,” he put the bottle of wine down and started shucked off his coat as Sasha tugged impatiently at his arm. “Marcoo,” she whined, pulling on his arm and practically dragging him down the hall to the living room, “You promised you would at least talk to them this time and I know you have a weird thing about seeing people we work with but I really think-”

Marco stopped, Sasha giving an impatient huff as her attempts to get him to the living room were interrupted. “Sasha who in the world are you trying to set me up with?” They both turned as Connie’s voice came from the other end of the hallway as he was obviously bringing someone with him. “Listen man, just give him a chance! He’s really sweet and-” “Connie, for the last time, I told you, I’m already talking to some-” Jean stopped in the hallway much like Marco had, causing Connie to bump into him, “one... Marco?” Marco felt like his stomach had fallen out of his body. Of course, Jean was already seeing someone, of course. He ducked his head, “Sorry, Sasha, I have to,” he was not going to cry in front of all these people, “I have to go.” He turned around and headed to the front of the house and towards his car, ignoring the calls behind him. He knew he had been stupid thinking Jean was available, thinking he might have a shot with him. Now all he wanted to do was go home, curl up with his cats, and cry.

“Marco!” He ignored it, trying to find his keys, his hands fumbling in the cold, “Marco, please wait a second please.” Marco turned around, seeing Jean behind him, obviously frazzled from running after him. “Marco please hang on a second, I just wanted to clarify,” Jean looked incredibly anxious. “Oh, no, it's really okay,” it was not okay, Marco felt heart broken, “ I just don’t feel well is all.” “Well I still wanted to-” “Have a happy holidays Jean,” “Marco! Please listen to me!” Marco was spun around by a hand on his shoulder, forced to look Jean in the eyes, “Its you!” Marco just stared at him blankly, “What?” Jean laughed weakly, rubbing the hand on Marco’s shoulder down his arm. “With Connie, I was trying to explain to him that I didn’t want to be set up with anyone because I was already talking to you. Like in a romantic way.” Jean looked very nervous now that he had spoken his bit. Marco stood there, feeling the blush rise up his neck to his face. Jean was into him? “If I misunderstood something, it’s okay,” Jean was pulling away, “ I just thought-” “I like you too!” It felt like a large weight had been lifted off his chest and he was free falling now, “I’ve liked you since forever please don’t walk away.” Marco grabbed the front of Jean’s sweater. Jean let out a shaky sigh, “Oh thank god, I thought I was just imagining things.” They both laughed at that, drawing closer in the cold. “Is it okay if I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to since I met-” Marco didn’t give Jean a chance to finish, pulling him in by his sweater and finally, finally kissing the chemistry teacher into silence. All around them snow began to finally fall.


End file.
